


Rebirth

by LadyDeb



Series: Worlds Apart [10]
Category: Torchwood, Transformers, Transformers (2007)
Genre: F/M, Ianto just wants to save Lisa even if she can't be saved, Jack tries to clean up the mess, M/M, rogue Sector Seven agents try to use Canary Wharf to their advantage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 11:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDeb/pseuds/LadyDeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Battle of Canary Wharf is over and it's time to pick up the pieces. However, for two former Sector Seven agents, it represents an opportunity to restart their defunct agency, especially after they meet Ianto Jones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Best Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a short story, no more than four chapters (including the prologue here). I have one more story, which involves Rhys’ first encounter with Torchwood (tentative title is Cattin’ Around), and then I’ll get to the story I began writing four years ago after seeing the first Transformers movie (yup, three years before I got into Torchwood and two years before I heard of it). And then we’ll get to season one. I believe that will be an entire story, with an episode per chapter. Oh, and as I’m sure you’ll realize, Simmons’ entire role in Revenge of the Fallen will be re-written, given his affiliation with Torchwood.

Disclaimer:  Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Lisa Hallet, Toshiko Sato, Suzie Costello, Owen Harper and the concepts of _Doctor Who_ and _Torchwood_ do not belong to me, they’re the property of BBC and Starz Studios.  Secretary of Defense John Keller and Sector Seven belong to Michael Bay and Hasbro.  However, the two Sector Seven agents in this chapter and the extended Keller family do belong to me.  You’re welcome to borrow them, just ask first and return them to me intact and as unscathed as you can manage (well, except for Marshall. . .he can be used as a practice dummy).

 

 

London, England

Two Days after the Battle of Canary Wharf, 2006

 

 “Well, this turned out to be a colossal waste of time, money and resources,” one man snarked as he and his partner sat in a pub.  He was rewarded with a sharp kick to his shin and a hissed reminder to keep his voice down.  He didn’t know why. . .they weren’t exactly going to blend in, not with their American accents or business suits, not at this time of the day.  Besides, he wasn’t really talking in specifics.  However, he obligingly lowered his voice, adding, “And with Harkness in town, that’s going to complicate matters.”

 His partner muttered, “Don’t I know it.”  With the destruction of Torchwood One, their forerunner in all things alien, the Crown had called the remaining Torchwood directors to London, including one Captain Jack Harkness, who ran the Torchwood unit in the States.   The expressed purpose was to decide what came next, and if Torchwood London should even be rebuilt.  Harkness by himself was trouble.  There were rumors flying around Sector Seven before it was disbanded that Harkness either didn’t age or die, or was a dead ringer for his father and grandfather and great-grandfather.  Somebody once made the mistake of cracking a joke about the man around Banacek, and found himself without a job.  Seems Banacek didn’t much like the idea of experimenting on humans or beings who looked like humans.  Considering half of Sector Seven weren’t even sure if Banacek was human. . .

That was bad enough, but Harkness was also married to Secretary of Defense John Keller’s oldest daughter, the thoroughly forgettable Alexandra.  The Sector Seven agent was one hundred fifty percent straight, thank you very much, but even he had to admit that Harkness was a good-looking man.  What he was doing with a woman who looked like that. . .well, the guy had to be working some angle, but damn if he could figure it out.  His partner added, “With the destruction of Torchwood One, though, we might have an opportunity still.  Those Cyberthings joined with human beings, metal and flesh in one, the Cyber portion completely overwriting the human.  What’s the law of averages that all of the transitions or uploads were successful?”

Oh.  He hadn’t even thought of that!  He continued, following his partner’s lead, “So. . .we find someone who was partially Converted.  We can’t study them, ‘cause Sector Seven is gone.”  Damn Keller for that anyhow.  However, the agent’s mind examined each angle as he went on, “How do we turn this to our advantage?”  Because more than anything, Sector Seven agent Anthony Marshall wanted to pay John Keller back for shutting down his agency.  They were doing good work, dammit!  They were protecting their country and their planet!

“One problem at a time, Marshall.  First, we need to get a list of those lost and figure out if they’re dead or partially converted or missing in action.  If it comes to it, we offer our services and say maybe we can back up the process,” his partner said.  Marshall started to point out that they didn’t have a place where they could do such a thing (even if they were inclined that way, which they weren’t), when Duval added, “We get one of those back to the States first and worry about getting caught later.  And putting one of those things on a passenger jet is not happening, so don’t even think about suggesting it, Marshall.”

But Marshall had another idea, one he wasn’t quite ready to share yet.  This started with Torchwood. . .Yvonne Hartman made the mess.  She was gone, but Torchwood should clean up their own messes.  He knew that Harkness used a corporate jet to fly to the UK after receiving the summons from the Crown, just as he knew that weird little Scottish guy was the one who picked him up at the airport.  If he could figure out a way to get one of those things on the corporate jet heading back to the States, he’d kill two birds with one stone.  They’d have a Cyber-being inside Torchwood and he could pay Keller back for shutting down Sector Seven.  Never mind that it was the president who did it. . .he relied on information from Keller.

It would be too bad if the Cyber-thing took out Keller’s daughter and granddaughter, as well as the entire Torchwood staff.  _But_ , he reflected, _maybe if he loses his kid and grandkid, Keller will think twice or even three times the next time he decided to shut down an agency_. 

But it was best not to let Duval know about his plans.  His kid was about the same age as the Harkness brat, and he would probably throw a hissy fit over a child being hurt.  It was too bad.  It really was.  He had nothing against either Harkness female.  But sacrifices had to be made, and the Secretary forgot that.  And just because he was the Secretary of Defense, one of the most powerful men in the country, didn’t mean that his daughter or granddaughter were immune from being those sacrifices.

And if he had his way, this would mark a new beginning for Sector Seven.  It was already demonstrated that Torchwood couldn’t handle the Cyber-things. . .this would prove that Sector Seven was needed.  It would be Sector Seven’s rebirth.

TBC


	2. Desperate Measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack tries to work out issues stemming from the fall of Torchwood One, while Ianto tries to convince him to hire him with Torchwood America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who is wondering how things will shake out with regards to the attraction between Jack and Ianto, since Jack is married to Lacey. Well, Jack is still Jack, and if you’re worried that the attraction to Ianto won’t be there anymore ... it will be. What happens as a result of that attraction is still being worked out. This chapter is the ramp up to the scenes in Fragments when Ianto and Jack catch Myfanwy, which is being left as it is. Unless otherwise stated, if a scene isn’t mentioned in the course of a chapter or story, then no changes have been made to the scene in question. Just for future reference. As things stand right now, Suzie won’t be dying, so They Keep Killing Suzie doesn’t happen in this universe.

London, England

Three weeks after the Battle of Canary Wharf, around six thirty pm local time

 

 “Is it really that bad, sweetheart?”

 “On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst?  It was a twenty-five.  I should have been here, Lacey,” Jack Harkness told his wife, rubbing his fingers back and forth across his forehead before reaching back to massage the tight muscles in the back of his neck.  He shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him, and continued, “I know, logically, that there was nothing I could have done.  She didn’t listen to the current head of Torchwood Three, who routinely sucks up to her.  But I still feel. . .”

 “As if you could have done more?  I know.  Have you found out anything more about what happened to that young girl, Rose?”  Lacey asked.  Jack was momentarily stunned by his wife’s observation.  He told her about Rose and the Doctor, but. . .  Lacey laughed softly, reminding him, “We moved to Cardiff in 1997, Jack, and I knew about your trips to London between then and 2001 when we returned to the States.  No, I didn’t follow you, but Miranda did.  She told me that you went to the Powell Estates, and that there was a young girl named ‘Rose’ there with her mother Jackie.  I think Miranda meant to make me jealous, and I was, briefly ... until I remembered you mentioning that Rose was nineteen or twenty when you met her and from the early twenty-first century.  I figured you were checking on her and her mother, making sure they were all right.  I also saw her name on the lists from Canary Wharf.  Now.  Have you learned anything more?”

 One day, he would learn not to underestimate his wife.  Jack replied, “No.  No, the survivors I’ve encountered are so traumatized, they barely remember seeing the Doctor, much less Rose.  And I haven’t found her body, but even with that, it’s not looking good.”  His headache was intensifying, and the rest of him wasn’t feeling especially well, either.  Jack sank back against his hotel bed, both wishing that his wife, whom he hadn’t seen in close to a month, was here and grateful that she wasn’t.  His muscles kept cramping and he’d been vaguely nauseous for most of the day.  It didn’t help having unexpected contact with a Weevil in one of the parks.  He added, “I don’t remember if I told you, but I’ve picked up a stalker.  Remember the kid in the park?”

 “The one who looked really good in those jeans?  The Welsh kid who used to work for Torchwood One?” Lacey asked, a teasing lilt in her voice when she reminded him of his comment regarding Ianto Jones in jeans.  Jack assented and she continued, “I remember.  So far, he saved your butt in the park against that Weevil ... yes, I know, you would have come back, but that doesn’t make what he did any less brave or me any less grateful to him.  So, since you say you’ve picked up a stalker and then mentioned him, I’m guessing that you’ve seen him a second time.”

 “I have, m’love.  I was cooling down after yet another round of squabbling between Two and Three over who should have figured out that Yvonne Hartman was about to tip over the edge.  Three tried to drag me into it, but the Crown representative reminded him that I wasn’t even in the country and he was far closer to Yvonne than I was, use your imagination, wink wink nudge nudge, and no, that’s _not_ how he put it,” Jack told his giggling wife.  But her laughter made him smile, and eased the knotting muscles throughout his body as he continued, “Anyhow, I’m outside and guess who’s waiting for me there?  Why, it’s none other than Ianto Jones with a cup of coffee.  Good coffee, at that.  He wants a job with us, Lace.”

 “So what’s stopping you, darlin,’ from hiring him?  Does he not have the qualifications we need?” Lacey questioned.  Jack adjusted his position yet again ... dammit, why couldn’t he get comfortable?  His wife added, sounding more than a little worried, “Jack, what’s wrong?  That’s the third or fourth time that you’ve made a pained noise, and that’s just during this conversation.  I know your fifty-first century body chemistry protects you from most of our bugs, but you have gotten sick in the past.”  Unfortunately, that was true.  The only good thing that came out of that experience was Lacey briefly taking charge of the team, and giving Owen a thorough tongue-lashing. . .and not the good kind, either. . .after he was ‘unspeakably’ rude to Toshiko.  Those were Lacey’s words.  Owen still hadn’t stopped tiptoeing around Tosh and Lacey as a result.

 “I thought we agreed to never speak of that again,” Jack teased gently, laughing aloud when his wife blew a raspberry at him, and he pointed out, “You’ve gotten better at that since Corey was born, are you copying her?  And I’m fine, just very tense.  I could use one of your massages.”  Jack was fully prepared to swear on whatever Lacey asked him to that he could literally hear her blushing down the wire.  But it was true.  Her massages were incredibly relaxing ... and he could really make her blush when he told her just how erotic they were as well.

 “I wish I could give you one of my massages, too, sweetheart.  I wish I was there with you now, Jack.  Corey misses you almost as much as I do,” Lacey replied.  Jack ran his hand over his face, sighing.  He left Lacey behind, as much to protect her from any UNIT idiots he encountered as to help with moving the Torchwood base from West Virginia, where it was for the last several years, to Hoover Dam.  The move to Nevada gave Jack a chance to see his granddaughter Mikaela on a regular basis, as well firm up ties between Torchwood and the fledging organization, NEST.

 Technically speaking, most of what Lacey was doing was the purview of Jack’s liaison, former Sector Seven Agent Reginald Simmons.  However, Jack got along far better with NEST commander, the newly-promoted Major William Lennox, than Simmons did ... and Jack had a reputation for being difficult.  On the other hand, Will didn’t regard the protection of the Earth as a competition or his personal possession.  He did, however, raise his eyebrows a bit the first time Jack flirted with him.  That was the worst thing he did, especially after Mikaela explained Jack did that with everyone.  Will’s mouth quirked and he asked if he could be there the first time Jack flirted with Simmons.  Jack simply smirked, not bothering to explain he already did that.  

 He told his wife now, “I wish you were here, too, love.  But I’m also glad that you’re not.  I want you and Corey nowhere near this mess.”  He paused and asked, “What are you wearing, Lacey-girl?  It’s ... oh.  One thirty in the afternoon.”  His wife’s laughter rang out once more and Jack smiled, settling in to hear about his wife and daughter and the shift from West Virginia to Nevada, which was far more dramatic for Suzie, Tosh, and Owen than it was for Lacey.  There were definite advantages to marrying a military brat.

  

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 Salvation was within his grasp, if he could just take that final step and convince Jack Harkness to hire him.  So far, he had little success, but he was willing to do anything to save Lisa ... and time was running out.  The two American agents would only be in town a few more days, and they promised to help him not only get Lisa on the corporate jet that returned Jack Harkness to his own branch of Torchwood, but get her set up once they arrived at Hoover Dam, which was a new Torchwood base in the States.  

 Somewhere in the back of Ianto Jones’ mind, he realized he was being used.  Those two Americans were entirely too interested in helping him with Lisa’s care, and they wouldn’t talk about what they got out of this.  But right now, he was simply too desperate to care, and the truth was, he would happily destroy the world if it meant saving Lisa.  She was all he had left, and there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t curse Yvonne Hartman for her arrogance and the being known as the Doctor simply to have someone to blame.

 A fortnight earlier, the two Americans turned up at the flat where he took refuge with his poor Lisa, telling him that they knew of a way to save Lisa.  Still shell-shocked by the events in the last few weeks, the boy grabbed onto the magic phrase. . .’we think we have a way to save Lisa.’  And that was all he needed to hear.   Not even hearing that he needed to enter into the employment of the infamous Captain Jack Harkness fazed Ianto.  Oh, he heard about the brash American who ran Torchwood Cardiff for a year after Alex Hopkins killed himself and his team.  Who hadn’t?  And he didn’t know how the American branch of Torchwood fit into this, but it didn’t matter.

 So far, he went to the American’s assistance when he fought the Weevil (and that felt good, to release some of his rage at Yvonne, at the Cybermen and the Daleks, at the Doctor, at himself); provided him with coffee, which wasn’t a total loss.  During that particular encounter with the Captain, he discovered that he made enough of an impression on the man that he did research on him.  And he knew Harkness found him attractive ... he could see it in the other man’s eyes.  What that said about Harkness, he wasn’t sure ... he knew that the man was married.  In fact, his father-in-law was a high-ranking American government official.  What worried Ianto was his own reaction.  He found the other man equally attractive, and he had no idea what that meant for him.

 It didn’t matter.  Only Lisa mattered, and Ianto was running out of both time and ideas.  He needed to find a way to convince Harkness to hire him.  What would convince him that Ianto would be an asset to his branch?  He offered to do anything that needed to be done, and that didn’t work.  Harkness was extremely leery of anyone from Torchwood One, and after hearing what Agent Duval had to say, he supposed he couldn’t blame the man.  According to the (far) more pleasant agent, Harkness lost someone who was like a sister to him at Canary Wharf, but that should give them a common bond.

  _Think, Ianto, everything depends on your ability to get into the American branch of Torchwood_ , he berated himself, but he was so tired and so frustrated.  Even with the assistance of the two agents, Ianto had his hands full taking care of Lisa.  She was hurting so badly, and there were times, in his darkest moments, when Ianto wondered if he was doing the right thing ... when he wondered if it wasn’t kinder to end her pain.  And then, he would be horrified at his thoughts, because while there was life, there was hope.  And he wasn’t sure if he wanted to end her pain or his own.  And what kind of a monster did that make him?  No.  No, he had to keep trying.

 A gentle hand on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts and he looked up to see Agent Duval standing at his side with a mug in his hand.  The older man said as he handed the mug over to the surprised young man, “Careful, kid.  It’s hot.  You looked like you could use some real sustenance, not the dreck Marshall likes so much.  When I was a kid and one of us were sick, my mom would always make us soup in a mug.  It was easier to handle than a bowl and made us feel a little more grown up.  I’d pretend that I was really drinking coffee, instead of soup.”  Ianto smiled in spite of himself and Duval asked, “How are you doing?”

 It was on the tip of Ianto’s tongue to say that he was fine, he was always fine, but Duval added quietly, “Don’t try to bullshit me, kid.  I know you’re not fine, you can’t be. If I could figure out how to get you to a psychiatrist who understood even a tenth of what you’ve been through, I’d make an appointment for you immediately.  You’ve been through hell, kid.”  Ianto sighed, knowing that Duval was right.  Even during those times when he wished there was someone he could talk to, that option wasn’t open to him.  

 “I’m running out of ideas, sir,” Ianto admitted and explained to Duval what he had done so far to get the other American’s attention.  Duval listened intently, never interrupting, always keeping his hand on Ianto’s shoulder sympathetically.  The young man concluded, “I really have no idea what else to try.  My research isn’t helping me at all, and I cannot read him properly.  It was one of the things that made me very good at my last job.  Even in the Archives, that helps.”

 “I believe you,” Duval replied softly.  He was silent for several moments while Ianto sipped at his soup (which was quite good), and then said, “Tell you what.  Let’s do a search on the strange and the bizarre, see if something crops up.  Maybe we’ll find something that will attract the captain’s attention.  He’s a bit unpredictable.  I think that’s what Banacek likes about him.  Oh, Banacek?  He was my boss, before our agency was shut down.”  This was said in response to Ianto’s questioning look.  Duval took the mug from Ianto’s hand and guided him over to the former agent’s laptop.

 “Why was your agency shut down, or is that ... ?” Ianto began, not sure if he should finish his question.  Duval settled him in the seat next to his own, and the youngster wondered at the expressions that passed over the older man’s face.  One of the strongest was grief.  Grief over someone he loved and lost, or something that he lost?  His job, a sense of purpose, a reason to get up in the morning?  Perhaps there was more of a common bond between them than Ianto realized at first.

 “We crossed a line, Ianto Jones.  We encountered an alien life form, and certain agents failed to respect it.  Since we’ve been here, I’ve been reading the mission briefings, and I discovered that the alien life form in question risked its own existence to save two young humans, a boy and a girl not much younger than you.  Does that sound like the actions of a being that means to subjugate us, to harm humanity?” Duval asked.  Ianto shook his head slowly.  It didn’t to him, but that didn’t prove anything.  Just because his first encounter with alien beings bent on world-domination or world-destruction were overt in their desires didn’t mean there weren’t other, much more subtle beings out there.

 And, he suspected, his agreement really wasn’t needed.  It seemed that the older man simply needed to talk, to get something out of his system.  Duval continued, “One of the agents showed his badge, calling it his ‘ _do what I want and get away with it’_ card.  We did a job not so different from Torchwood, and now Torchwood will be doing that job.  I’m torn between feeling grateful that someone is doing the job, and wishing that it was me.  I guess that’s where my mixed feelings toward Harkness come in.”

 Ianto was on the point of asking him to elaborate, but Duval said, “Ahhh.  Interesting.  We knew in Sector Seven about the Rift in Cardiff, of course, but this is the first time I’ve seen any further information on it.  You’re originally from that area, aren’t you, Ianto?”  Ianto nodded a bit numbly, and the agent continued, “All right.  That’s good, you know the area.  Look at this report on one of the tabloids, about a creature spotted.”  Tabloids?  Ianto’s arched brow made the agent smile as he said, “You know, there are a few things that the movie _Men in Black_ got right.”  

  _Ah._   Duval said, “Well, then, I think we have a way to get the attention of one Captain Jack Harkness.  Let me figure out what his cell ... sorry, his mobile number is, and you get ready to go.  I do believe we have ourselves a plan.”  And he proceeded to explain to Ianto what his plan was.  The young man had his doubts about it working, but he had nothing better.  What did he have left to lose?  Thirty minutes later, he was on his way south, and praying that Duval was right about the unpredictable captain’s curiosity.

  

TWTWTWTWTW

 

Agent Nicholas Duval sighed, relaxing a little as the boy they were using headed out of their current residence.  It was, according to the youngster, once the flat of one of the people killed at Canary Wharf.  It creeped out Marshall, but Duval didn’t see much difference between this and what they were doing with what remained of Lisa Hallett.  He was painfully aware that this was his idea, but the more time he spent around her, the more Duval was convinced that there was very little of Lisa that could be saved.  But he was committed to this course.  Not just because he believed there was still a way they could save other people who were partially converted in the future (God forbid), but because if he told Ianto Jones now that there was no saving Lisa, the boy would have his last reason for living ripped away from him.  And Nick couldn’t do that to him.

 Besides, he could be wrong.  He hoped he was wrong.  He knew that Harkness was unconventional, and that could save Lisa.  But that was only if Ianto could bring himself to tell the man the truth, and Nick had the bad feeling the boy would try to do this entirely on his own.  If he was right, this would be an even greater disaster.  It seemed now that things were unfolding, no matter which way he went, it had the potential to be disastrous, especially with a zealot like Marshall involved.  

Again, as he tracked Ianto’s progress, Duval wondered what he was thinking when he agreed to accompany Marshall to the UK in the wake of the Canary Wharf disaster.  Oh, that’s right, he wasn’t thinking!  He was too busy resenting Jack Harkness for doing his job and the Secretary for shutting down Sector Seven to think straight, that’s right.  He was, to put it quite bluntly, was behaving like a damn douche bag, and it was a source of constant amazement that his wife hadn’t walked out on him and taken their little girl with her.  He would have to make things up to her when he got back.

 But first, he had to send a cryptic text to Harkness, informing him that there was a dinosaur menacing his former stomping grounds.  It was possible that he would ignore it.  Decide that Torchwood Cardiff could handle it.  Sure, it was possible.  But based on what he knew of Harkness from both the SecDef and Banacek, Duval thought his curiosity would overwhelm whatever ill feelings he had toward Torchwood Three.

 It occurred to him that he was relying a great deal on hope for this entire operation.  It was a very uncomfortable feeling, but so much hinged on the boy’s success in convincing Harkness to hire him.  There were only so many actions which Duval could make without tipping his hand to both Harkness and Marshall ... and he trusted Harkness a helluva lot more than he trusted his ‘partner.’  Perhaps, if he knew of Marshall’s intentions, he would have chosen different moves in this odd little game of chess. . .

 And maybe, he wouldn’t have.

 

 

TBC


	3. The Best Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto's achieved his goal of getting Jack to hire him, but there's still the matter of his unwelcome attraction to his new boss ... and then there are the complications.

London, England

Two days later

 

He did it.  He actually did it.  And what it finally took was capturing a pternanodon in a warehouse.   Well, that and catching his new boss when he dropped from the beast.  He couldn’t forget that part, much less the way Captain Harkness felt against his body, his breath warm against his skin, no matter how hard he tried.  Not for the first time, Ianto Jones wondered if he was strong enough to do this.  It wasn’t just hiding Lisa, but the whole way Captain Harkness looked at him, the way he smiled, the way he smelled, the way he felt.  It scared the hell out of Ianto ... it scared him and it distracted him.

But he had done it and his newest assignment from the two American agents was to distract Captain Harkness while they snuck Lisa onto the corporate jet that would return them to the United States.  The question was, how to do that?  There was the obvious way, of course, but Ianto wasn’t sure if he was up for that (no pun intended).  Surely there was another way to distract the (admittedly handsome) captain.  Besides, wasn’t the man married?  He heard Agent Marshall speaking derisively of the captain’s wife and saw the decidedly unamused look which Agent Duval gave him as a result.

He supposed that was one reason he didn’t trust Agent Marshall ... he obviously didn’t respect the captain’s wife because she wasn’t beautiful.  He told Lisa on more than one occasion that he would love her no matter what she looked like, and she reciprocated.  He ... what was that?  Ianto frowned, but the sound didn’t occur a second time.  It was a heavy thump ... like a body hitting the ground?  Ianto’s blood ran cold, because the sound, whatever it was, came from next door.  It came from the captain’s room. 

Should he investigate?  No, there was a pretty good chance that his help was neither wanted nor needed, and ... why were his feet moving him toward the door?  _Because, you idiot_ , a little voice in the back of his mind retorted, _you haven’t been hearing any laughter or things to indicate that Captain Harkness is having a **very** good time indeed, and if he’s ill or dies, then your chance to save Lisa dies with him_.  Yes, that was a very good reason.  He stopped long enough to pick up his room key, and then headed next door.  That little voice inside his head was right ... the door was slightly ajar.

Ianto looked around carefully, wondering if he had any business going inside, and if he should alert anyone.  There was a faint moan, which served to put steel in Ianto’s spine.  Yvonne Hartman always said, ‘if it’s alien, it’s ours’ and had no problem brushing aside any objections UNIT made, or anyone else for that matter.  _Yes_ , that voice spoke up again, _and look at where that got her and you_.  Ianto reminded said voice that it wanted him to check on the captain, and it blessedly fell silent for now.  He took a cursory look up and down the hall, before slipping inside ... only to find Jack Harkness crumpled on the ground.  Ianto closed the door behind him without thinking, and then sank to his knees beside the barely conscious man.  A few yards away lay his mobile, and a voice was calling through the phone, “Jack!  Jack, what is it?”

Ianto picked up the phone, hoping whoever was on the other end of the line could shed some light on what was happening, and said, “Hello, this is Ianto Jones?”  There was a soft sigh as the young man began checking over the other man, adding, “May I ask to whom I’m speaking?”  Captain Harkness was breathing with difficulty, his skin was cold and clammy, his pulse erratic.  None of which was a good thing, and Ianto’s own understanding of medicine was ... sketchy, except where the conversion unit was concerned.

“Ianto Jones, my name is Alexandra Harkness.  I was on the phone with my husband when he stopped speaking.  A moment after that, I heard a thump.  What is going on?” a calm, controlled voice asked.  Too controlled.  The captain’s wife.  He was speaking to the captain’s wife.  She was talking to her husband when he collapsed.  Ianto took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, because he had no fucking idea what he was supposed to do.  There was a sigh on the other end of the line, and when Lacey Harkness spoke next, her voice was impossibly gentle, “It’s all right, Ianto Jones, we’ll get through this together.  What’s happened?”

“Uhm, I ... I was in my room, next door, when I heard a thump.  I came over to see what was going on, and found Captain Harkness unconscious or semi-conscious, I can’t really tell.  The door was ajar, which is why I came in.  Didn’t bother knocking, found him on the floor unconscious.  His pulse is erratic, his respiration is shallow, and his skin is cold and clammy.  I don’t understand it, he was fine last night,” Ianto said, painfully aware that he was rambling, and equally aware that he didn’t much care, because he felt as if he was in way over his head.  No, that was wrong.  He knew that he was completely in over his head.  How did a man, how did the man now crumpled on the ground, go from being playful and flirtatious and ...  .to this?

“Dammit ... I _knew_ he wasn’t feeling well!  All right.  All right, there’s no help for it now, and there was nothing I could have done if I wasn’t there.  Ianto, is the door closed behind you?” Alexandra Harkness asked, the calmness in her voice sounding more than a little strained.  Ianto didn’t know what one thing had to do with the other, but informed her that yes, the door was closed and he closed the door behind him when he came in.  He still wasn’t sure why he did that, wouldn’t it have been more sensible to keep it open, in case he needed to call for help?  The woman continued, allowing a touch of relief to filter through, “Good.  Ianto, we’ll keep this simple.  Can you pick up my husband and put him on the bed?  We’ll start there.  Don’t worry about talking to me again until he’s on the bed, just put the cell on the nightstand and then pick it up when you’re done.”

Oh.  Good.  He didn’t have to worry about keeping the mobile tucked against his shoulder while he hefted the captain onto the bed.  That would have been terribly awkward.  He carefully set the instrument on the nightstand as the captain’s wife suggested/ordered, and then eased the unconscious man up and onto the bed.  Was it his imagination, or was Captain Harkness already breathing easier?  He picked up the mobile once more and reported, “All right.  All right, he’s on the bed.  What should I do next?”  He paused as he noticed something, but then shook his head.  No, he was just imagining things.  Or was he?  He resolved to say something to Alexandra if he noticed it again. 

“Get him out of his coat, if he’s still wearing it.  I don’t think he had time to take it off, but I could be wrong.  And if I’m right, I apologize, I should have mentioned that earlier.  Once you have that off, start loosening his clothes.  The truth is, he hasn’t been feeling well the last few days.  He thought I didn’t notice.  He should know me better than that by now.  We’ve been married for nearly ten years, after all, and I knew him for twenty-three years before then.  Stubborn idiot,” Alexandra groused and she sounded so much like Lisa when she thought Ianto was being particularly foolish, that he found himself blinking back tears.  However, he did as she instructed, first easing the greatcoat from the other man’s shoulders (and he should have thought of that himself), and then began loosening his clothes.  And this time. . .  Ianto caught his breath and Alexandra asked, “What is it?”

“When ... when I touched him.  Not just to get him on the bed, but when I started loosening his clothing ... his breathing eased,” Ianto replied.  He blinked in astonishment at the swearing he heard from the woman who seemed so gentle only a few minutes earlier.  He waited until she wound down, and then asked, “Shall I repeat a touch, see if it works?”  There were several moments of listening to ragged breathing, and a soft conversation in the back ground.  Why would touch make it easier for him to breathe?

At last, the man’s wife said, “Yes.  Finish loosening his clothes, and then ... uhm ... take his hand.  Ianto, I know it’s uncomfortable and awkward, and I would gladly do this, but I’m not there.  You are.  Take his hand and rub it, as if you were warming up someone’s hands when they were really cold.”  Ianto nodded, ignoring that she couldn’t see him. She was right.  It was uncomfortable and it was awkward, not just because this was a man, but because Ianto was far more attracted to him than he ever dreamed he could be attracted to any man.  But she was also right in that Ianto was the only person available.  Besides, it wasn’t as if she asked Ianto to kiss him.  That would have been truly awkward.  She added in the impossibly gentle tone of just a few minutes earlier, “You can put the phone down.  Update me again in a few minutes.”

“What ... what’s wrong with him?  Why did he suddenly get sick?” Ianto stammered out, feeling hopelessly out of his depth.  A more cynical voice pointed out that at least he didn’t have to worry about distracting Captain Harkness while the two agents got Lisa onto the corporate jet that would take them back to the States.  He harshly told that inner voice to please shut the fuck up, that he didn’t need any bloody distractions.  And much to his surprise, that cynical voice did just that.  Would wonders never cease.

There was a sigh from the woman, and Alexandra said quietly, “My husband is a very tactile man.  During the last month, he’s received no gentle touches and a lot of stress.  He tells me that you lived through the hell that was Canary Wharf.  I’m so sorry about that.  I can’t imagine what you went through, much less the friends you must have lost.  Jack lost someone who mattered to him as well.  It ... .this month has been hard on him.  The stresses of dealing with the other directors of Torchwood, the loss of his friend, being away from people who love him, being without touch for so long. . .I think it took its toll on his immune system.”

Oh.  Well, that made sense.  Still cradling the mobile between his head and shoulder, Ianto picked up one of the captain’s hands and began to rub it, as if he was trying to stimulate the circulation.  Once more, the man’s breathing grew easier and Alexandra said softly, “Ianto, if you’re still there, you can put the phone down, honey.  I don’t want to distract you.  Like I said, I know this is already awkward for you.”  Ianto smiled humorlessly.  Awkward.  Oh, she had no idea.  _No_ , the more rational voice reminded him, _how can she know, how can she have any idea when you don’t want her to know, don’t want her husband to know_?

“It helps, talking to you, listening to you ... it doesn’t distract.  You said that you and Captain Harkness have been married for nearly ten years?” Ianto asked.  Honestly, he never heard of an adult’s immune system being affected by lack of touch, much less strained, although there were vague memories of hearing about studies involving infants, especially premature infants.  He lightly stroked the inside of the other man’s wrists, checking his pulse at the same time.  That was growing steadier, less erratic.  Good.  Good.  Ianto felt his own comfort level rising as the captain’s heart rate and breathing eased.  Once the captain woke up, Ianto would return to his own room and take a long, cold shower.

“Married in 1997.  Mama always quotes a famous evangelist’s wife and it’s something I’ve kept in mind.  ‘ _I never thought about divorce ... murder, on occasion, but never divorce_.’  Jack can be difficult, but my life wouldn’t be what it is without him.  And that makes it all worth it,” Alexandra answered.  She paused, laughed softly, and added, “And I don’t suppose hearing that Jack can be difficult is news to you.  He can be difficult, but only because he’s right and someone isn’t listening to him.  My dad is the same way.  Between being ‘nice’ and saving lives, especially when seconds count, they’ll both choose saving lives.”  Yes, he remembered hearing about that.  And yes, he often heard that Captain Harkness could be difficult (actually, the phrase used was ‘sodding Yank bastard’ more often than not, and it particularly galled people that he was quite correct).  The woman added after a minute, “By the way, call me ‘Lacey.’  I start getting itchy if people call me ‘Alexandra,’ don’t ask me why.”

Actually, he didn’t intend to get close enough to her or anyone else to be so familiar with them.  His time with Torchwood America was intended for one thing and one thing only:  saving Lisa. However, he hummed a noncommittal response and instead focused on Captain Harkness.  Also a mistake.  However, if he focused on Lisa, he’d start fretting again and if he was really honest, he’d start questioning why he was trusting Duval and Marshall with the most important person in his life.  Then he’d remember Lisa as she was before those monsters got her, and his resolve would be renewed once more.  Lacey Harkness continued to speak softly, telling Ianto what he could expect from Owen, Suzie, and Tosh, his new teammates.  He listened with half an ear, focusing on the captain’s vital signs.  His skin was growing warmer at a steady rate, and ...  .

And then, Ianto’s world flipped.  Literally.  One minute, he was sitting beside his new boss on the bed, amazed as his touch actually seemed to help the stricken man, and the next?  Well, in the next, a warm body impacted with his own.  He found himself lying flat on his back, staring into a pair of unfocused blue eyes, right before a pair of lips descended on his own.  At which point, Ianto’s mind shut down, because Captain Jack Harkness could _kiss_.  Ianto forgot everything for a few minutes ... he forgot Lisa, he forgot that he was kissing a man (or a man was kissing him), and he completely forgot about the mobile that was knocked out of his hand when he was tackled to the bed.

As if they had a mind of their own, his hands came up to caress the torso of the person kissing him, gliding along ribs, and Ianto’s mind, which was just starting to come online, promptly shut down again when his caresses drew a moan.  It was anyone’s guess, just how much further things would have gone if a hand didn’t slip between Ianto’s legs, and lips pulled away from Ianto’s.  The hand was also removed, and when Ianto’s mind finally re-engaged, he found a very confused-looking Jack Harkness staring down at him.  The captain stated (a bit unnecessarily, Ianto thought), “You’re not Lacey.  You’re gorgeous in your own right, and I never argue with someone who wants to kiss me, but you’re not Lacey.”

Lacey?  Who was ...   LACEY!  The woman ... the captain’s wife ... had told him just a few minutes before Captain Harkness woke up that her nickname was Lacey, and ...  .  Ianto actually squeaked (no, not squeak, that was a yelp) and skittered away from the thoroughly-bewildered older man, looking around desperately for the mobile.  He lunged for it, gasping, “Mrs. Harkness?  Are you still there?”  He found his back against the wall, literally, while Captain Harkness blinked the confusion out of his eyes.

“Ianto, is everything okay?  I heard someone cry out, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Harkness asked, sounding more than a little worried.  Ianto gave her a hurried status report, unsure if he should tell her about what just happened between him and her husband.  He chose not to.  What could he say?  When she spoke next, the American woman sighed, “I am so sorry about that, Ianto.  I would have warned you, but something like that has never happened to my knowledge.  Is my husband capable of talking right now, or did you take a swing at him when he startled you?”

No, he hadn’t, though maybe he should have.  Instead, he warily handed the phone to his new boss.  Captain Harkness accepted the mobile, now smirking a little at him.  Ianto responded with his fiercest scowl.  Obviously, his wife asked if he was all right and Captain Harkness answered, “I’m fine, Lace ... I think I scared him a little when I woke up.  No, nothing like this has ever happened before.  Okay, not for a long time.  How did I scare him?  I ... I think I kissed him.  He was caressing the inside of my wrist, and I thought ... well, I wasn’t thinking very clearly at the time.  I thought he was you.  Well, you’re the only other person who has ever been fond of that kind of touch.  I know you’re not angry ... that sounded more like ‘ _you scared the hell out of me_ ’ than ‘ _how dare you kiss someone else, you bastard_.’   Oh, _Lacey_.”

The tenderness in the other man’s voice nearly broke Ianto, even though it wasn’t directed at him.  And he hated them both ... he hated Lacey Harkness because she was whole and healthy and not converted, he hated Jack Harkness because he still had the woman he loved.  But then he was ashamed of his feelings.  He should be relieved that no one else was feeling this way, that no one else had to watch someone they loved struggle to keep their very humanity.  And he was.  But right now, he felt so very alone.  He started to get up, but a warm hand settled on his thigh.  Startled, Ianto looked up to find the captain staring at him with warm, concerned eyes.  He managed a weak smile and mouthed, ‘ _talk to your wife_.’

However, instead, Captain Harkness returned the mobile to him and Lacey Harkness was saying, “Are you all right, Ianto?  I’m so sorry, it never occurred to me that he might kiss you when he woke up.”  She sounded truly worried for him and truly anxious ... but not angry.  Not even indignant.  Ianto shook his head, once more forgetting that she couldn’t see him, and she continued, “I know you must be horribly confused, but Jack reaffirmed my belief of what happened to him.  There was a touch more to it than I realized, but that’s pretty standard.  The important thing is, you saved him, Ianto Jones, and I can’t be angry about anything that saves my husband.  Thank you for taking care of him when I couldn’t.” 

Ianto blinked and rasped out, “You’re welcome.  Do you ... is your marriage ...?”  He pointedly ignored Captain Harkness, who eased himself from the bed, still moving a bit slowly.  Even so, he trembled a little when he heard a soft groan of pain.  He still didn’t understand what happened to the other man, but there were too many other things going on right now for him.  There was a slow sigh from the other end of the phone ... the sigh of a woman trying to figure out how to explain something that was simply the way things were.  Ianto started to tell her that it wasn’t that important, that she didn’t need to tell him anything more.  After she was so kind to him already, she didn’t owe him anything.  But ...

“It’s kinda hard to explain.  All that matters is that you aren’t terribly freaked out, that you’re okay.  Because like I said, I’m definitely not mad at you or at Jack.  When you guys get here, I’ll explain a little more, as much as I can, but that’s not a conversation we need to have on the phone,” she replied.  Okay.  He could live with that.  And at least she told him the reason she couldn’t tell him right now, rather than, ‘ _it’s complicated_.’  He was quite certain he would have found it necessary to scream if she was that patronizing.  Much about Jack Harkness was complicated.  He didn’t need to be told the obvious.  Lacey Harkness asked after a moment, sounding truly concerned for him, “Are you all right, Ianto?  Between finding Jack the way you did, and then his response to ... well, when he kissed you, things have been a little topsy-turvy.”

“I’m fine, please don’t worry about me.  I ... I’m looking forward to meeting you.  And thank you for helping me through this,” Ianto replied quietly.  There was a warm ‘I look forward to meeting you, too,’ and then Ianto handed the phone back to Captain Harkness, saying softly, “I should be getting back to my room, Captain. . .I’m glad you’re all right.”  He prayed that the other man wouldn’t repeat his wife’s question about whether he was all right, and while there was obvious concern in the now-focused blue eyes, Ianto’s prayer was answered.  Captain Harkness gave him a gentle smile as he nodded and squeezed Ianto’s shoulder.  The young man immediately found himself feeling resentful of that fact, and then mentally shook his head.  _Decide what you want, Jones_ , he told himself, _dilly-dallying like this isn’t fair to anyone_. 

“Get some rest, Jones Ianto Jones,” Captain Harkness said softly, “we have an early morning tomorrow, and then a long day ahead of us.”  Ianto inclined his head in response and slipped from the room.  Once he reached his own room and closed the door behind him, he collapsed onto the bed, trembling.  He couldn’t tell anyone about Lisa until she was successfully taken out of the conversion unit and she was Lisa again, when she was his Lisa.  And maybe not even then.  He remembered a snippet of conversation he and Lisa heard together between the two agents, about the possibility of Lisa hurting someone else.  Lisa’s brown eyes widened with terror and she begged Ianto to kill her if she ever reached that point.  She didn’t want to live if she hurt someone, whether it was Ianto or anyone else.  Ianto promised to do just that, but he couldn’t accept that Lisa could ever hurt someone ... that she was capable of hurting someone.

The possibility that Lisa might hurt someone didn’t frighten him.  It wasn’t a possibility.  It just wasn’t.  What did terrify him were those moments when he forgot Lisa, after the captain’s lips descended upon his own.  He forgot Lisa.  He _forgot_ his Lisa.  And what was even more terrifying for Ianto Jones, as he sat in his hotel room with his face in his hands?  He realized that he could use the captain’s obvious attraction to him to distract him once Lisa was safe in the new Torchwood America base.  What that said about him, Ianto didn’t want to know and tried to tell himself that he didn’t care.  He only cared about Lisa.  Lisa was all that mattered.

 

TWTWTWTWTW

 

Jack Harkness had his own hands full, trying to calm his worried bride.  Most of the time, Lacey was able to rein in her protective instincts where Jack was concerned.  Most of the time.  However, she sensed that he wasn’t feeling well for the last several days and she must have been terrified when he collapsed during their conversation.  He was fine now, but in the fifty-first century, touch was as powerful a medicine as any chemical, especially for minor ailments.  Now, in the twenty-first century, humans were only just beginning to realize just how powerful touch could be.  His youngest sister-in-law, Cissie, was talking about studying massage therapy and working in the neo-natal area of a hospital.  Were they realizing or re-discovering?  It was hard to be sure sometimes.

And then, once Lacey was reassured that he was truly all right, Jack next had to reassure her about Ianto.  That was harder, because he wasn’t entirely sure that the boy was all right.  Even before the awakening kiss, Ianto was on edge, and Jack couldn’t be sure if it was because of the immortal’s flirting or something else.  He had a sneaking suspicion it was the ‘something else,’ and what that ‘something else’ might be was what worried Jack.  Contrary to popular belief, he did get worried.  His means of expression was simply different from other people.  For instance, he was more than a little worried about what would happen when Lacey actually met one of the Autobots.  Oh, she knew they existed and she even knew that they were on Earth ... but she didn’t know about the alliance between the ‘Bots and NEST, much less the role that Torchwood would be playing when the time came.

For now, it was simple information sharing.  Reggie Simmons was monitoring communications in the same Alien Archives where he, Jack’s father-in-law, Maggie Madsen and Glen Whitman defended themselves against the little Decepticon whose head now decorated Reggie’s desk.  It was actually Reggie’s idea, especially once the room was cleaned up and he was reassured that he would only be intercepting communications, rather than trying to send out.  Of course, he was still reeling from watching Jack flirt with Glen (and that poor kid took forever to figure out what was happening).  He waved something in Jack’s face and warned him, “Don’t even think about trying that with me, Jack Harkness.  Drake warned me about you.”

Will Lennox, who was taking a tour of the new base, fired back, “Actually, the way I hear it, Uncle Drake kissed Jack, rather than the other way around.”  Reggie, as Jack recalled, looked utterly gob smacked and Will continued, “In fact, SecDef Keller told me that Uncle Drake grabbed Jack’s suspenders, propelled him into the wall and kissed him.”  Reggie was doing his impression of a stranded fish, prompting Will to add, “Hey, Jack’s a good-looking guy.  I told him that if he ever kissed me, that it wouldn’t be me he needed to worry about ... but Sarah.”

“Way I heard it,” Jack chimed in cheerfully, “Sarah even has Ironhide scared.”  Which wasn’t entirely true, but it got the point across.  The tour continued, and Jack heard Reggie muttering under his breath.  Jack ignored him, though, choosing to continue his conversation with Will as they walked through the inside of Hoover Dam.  The rest of the team was working inside Hoover Dam, and from what John told him, Drake Keller was moving his company, the Tantalis Institute, to the great structure as well.  Torchwood didn’t need the entire dam, after all, there was no reason why Tantalis shouldn’t have some space.  Contrary to popular belief, Jack did know how to share ... he had no problem with sharing.  Under the right circumstances, of course.

 

TBC

 

Additional note:  C’mon.  Of _course_ Jack would flirt with a brilliant kid like Glen!


	4. Measure for Measure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto and Jack return to the States with Myfanwy and Lisa; Lisa makes her feelings about Sector Seven known to Agent Duval; while Lacey prepares Hoover Dam for their arrival with assistance from Suzie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have the final chapter of Rebirth, in which an oft-maligned character gets a voice (and yes, Myfanwy does accompany Jack and Ianto to Hoover Dam. How do they let her out to hunt? Still working on that part, but I’m thinking she flies out the way Megatron does when he escapes). I’m not entirely sure why Lisa is so vilified, since the Cybermen over-rode their victims’ humanity, while keeping their memories, but I’ve always felt sorry for her. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had no choice in what she became. At the same time, we’ll check in with the crew at the Hoover Dam. Next up in this series is Cattin’ Around, in which Rhys comes face to face with Torchwood. . .and realizes just how unprepared he was for Torchwood in general, and Jack in specific. Then again, can you really blame him? How, exactly, does one prepare oneself for Captain Jack Harkness? I don’t think such a thing is possible. Poor Rhys!

Somewhere over the Atlantic

The following morning, the cargo section of the Torchwood jet (alongside Myfanwy)

 

She was losing her battle.  Minute by minute, hour by hour, more of this thing took her over, and there was nothing she could do about it.  Little by little, she was losing her humanity, and she was terrified.  And Ianto, her poor Ianto, had no idea any of this was happening.  His mind, already scarred so badly by Canary Wharf, believed that the changes in her personality were the result of the pain.  But Lisa Hallett knew the truth, and knew that she wouldn’t be Lisa for much longer.  Each time she tried to warn Ianto, the thing which took her over stopped her.  Worse yet, she knew that the two agents who were pretending to help Ianto had their own agenda, and helping Lisa had nothing to do with it.  Agent Marshall seemed to think that she couldn’t hear him when he was muttering to himself.  She knew that he intended to use her to hurt other people.  And Agent Duval didn’t want to hurt anyone, but he knew just as well as she did that she couldn’t be saved.  His hope was that if, God forbid, the Cybermen ever returned, what they learned from Lisa could be used to protect others.  Lisa could have told him, they would only learn what the Cybermen wanted them to learn:  nothing.

And yet, Lisa continued to fight.  Her battle might be doomed to failure, but if it was, she would go down fighting.  Once there was no more Lisa, then Ianto would be in even far greater danger.  Lisa couldn’t save herself, but maybe she could save Ianto.  He thought he was saving her, but she was saving him.  She hoped.  From what she heard, even if Marshall’s dearest wish came true and Lisa was lost to the Cyberthing once she was inside Torchwood America, Captain Jack Harkness would keep the casualties at a minimum.  Everyone at Torchwood One heard about the brash, handsome American and Lisa had faith that the man lived up to his hype.  He might not be able to save everyone, but he’d save as many as he could.

_He won’t be able to save me_ , she thought, _but he’ll save Ianto, no matter how angry he is with Ianto when he realizes the truth.  I don’t care if he saves Agent Marshall or not ... that berk doesn’t deserve to be saved_.  It sickened her, that he would use her to kill an innocent woman and child, and Lisa could only pray that such a thing never happened.  She would have rather died completely in Canary Wharf than hurt innocent people, who never hurt her, who never hurt anyone she loved.  Lisa was sorry he lost his job ( _no, she wasn’t_ ), but he was going after the wrong people.  Besides, she wasn’t really sure if Secretary of Defense Keller was wrong to shut down Sector Seven ... ever so often, information would leak over to Lisa, and this Sector Seven sounded too much like Torchwood One and Yvonne Hartman for her liking. 

Besides, she wasn’t especially pleased about finding herself in the cargo section of a Flying Fortress.  Evidently, Captain Harkness was a World War Two aficionado and had the money and the resources to buy a Flying Fortress, which he used as the Torchwood corporate jet.  If she was in this as a passenger, rather than as cargo, Lisa probably wouldn’t have minded as much.  The novelty alone would have been amazing.  . .and then there was the matter of the dinosaur sleeping off to her side.  She knew about the Rift in Cardiff, of course ... who didn’t?  Evidently, the dinosaur, which Ianto named ‘Myfanwy,’ flew through the Rift and found itself/herself in the modern age.  Poor thing.  It must be so confused.  In a time and place that was thoroughly unfamiliar ... poor, poor Myfanwy.  She wished she could reach out to the sedated Myfanwy, but that simply wasn’t possible.  Not here, not now.  Not ever again.

Ianto managed to sneak away, long enough to whisper that he loved her and would come back to visit her whenever Captain Harkness was dozing.  It was a long flight back to the States, and they would be going to Nevada, rather than West Virginia.  The new Torchwood base was in Nevada, hidden within Hoover Dam.  It was evidently where another NBE was hidden for quite a long time (yet another reason she didn’t like Marshall ... he kept referring to her as an NBE, a non-biological extraterrestrial.  She was still half-human, dammit, even if the human side of her kept losing ground on a daily basis).  Lisa always wanted to visit Hoover Dam.  She just never thought it would be like this.  Maybe since she would never get to actually see the outside of the Dam, she could talk Ianto into taking pictures of it for her.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” a soft voice said and Lisa looked up to see Agent Duval at her side.  She smiled at him rather bitterly and he continued, “You know.  You know, even if he doesn’t, that we can’t save you.”  He sounded genuinely sorry, genuinely sad for her and for Ianto.  The agent continued, “I like him, you know.  Ianto.  He’s a good kid.  That’s why I haven’t told him the truth.  You’re all he’s got to live for right now ... I can’t take that away from him.  He loses that, he loses everything.”

“And so you push the responsibility to someone else.  I find I’m glad your Sector Seven was shut down,” Lisa retorted hoarsely.  Rather than being angry with her, though, Duval just nodded sadly.  She continued, “I don’t doubt that there were good people in your agency.  You’re a good man, I think, just weak and bitter.  But there are more people who think like Yvonne Hartman.  And I don’t care why it happened, because that woman is the reason I’m losing my humanity.  I will lose to this thing, Agent Duval, no matter how hard I fight, I will lose, and Ianto swears that he won’t let me hurt anyone.  But he doesn’t believe it’s possible, and I know I will end up hurting someone.”

There was nothing Agent Duval could say to that, because he knew every word she spoke was true.  Lisa blinked back tears, whispering, “I wish I died immediately.  I wish someone found me before Ianto did, someone who would have had the compassion to put a bullet in my brain.  Do you know the most terrifying thing about Torchwood, Agent Duval?  It’s that what you know gets turned upside down.  You find out that what seems compassionate and merciful is actually cruel beyond measure.  What seems like cruelty is the most merciful thing in the world.  And then you look at the outside world, and you realize that’s true about reality.  All of your illusions are stripped away, and the ones who survive ... they’re called monsters because they can handle the loss of that false innocence.”

Agent Duval had nothing to say to that.  Distantly, Lisa realized that she should tell him about Marshall’s plans, before remembering that he might already know about them.  And so, she kept silent as the agent kneeling beside her took her hand.  She prayed that Captain Harkness found her before things spun out of control.  She prayed that he found her and did what no one else could do.  Yes, they heard that he was brash and could be difficult, but there were others in Torchwood London who met him, who said that he was a wild flirt, but he was a good man.  Lisa hoped so.  The end of her suffering and the rest of Ianto’s life depended upon it.

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

Hoover Dam, Nevada

Very Early Morning

 

It was odd, really.  She was conceived just a few miles from this location ... and her mother fainted when she was here.  Lacey Keller Harkness could understand that.  There was something that made her nerves jangle.  Something that. . .  She shook her head distractedly.  Feeling like this really sucked.  It sucked because it sucked and it sucked because she couldn’t explain why it sucked.  And really, she should use better language than that, but apparently Owen’s potty mouth was rubbing off on her.  Lacey snickered, thinking of what her husband would say to that.  He’d probably smirk at her, arch his brows and ask if she was considering Owen for a threesome.

“You get up entirely too early, Lace,” Suzie Costello said softly, settling down beside her on the top of the dam.  Lacey offered her friend a smile, and Suzie continued, growing more serious, “If you’re worried about Jack, I’m sure he’s fine.  I’m just glad that he’s finally hired ... well, whatever he hired that kid for.  Although, knowing Jack, he’s probably stunningly gorgeous.”  Lacey just rolled her eyes, and Suzie asked softly, “I gotta ask, ‘cause it’s been driving me hatstand for the last several years, but why don’t you keep Jack from flirting?”  Lacey raised disbelieving eyes to her best friend, and Suzie laughed softly, adding, “Okay, dumb question.”

“Only because it’s Jack.  Seriously, can you imagine anyone other than Her Majesty making him do anything, much less make him stop doing something that’s first nature to him?” Lacey inquired.  Suzie dipped her head in acknowledgment and Lacey continued more seriously, “Do I like the idea of someone else, anyone else, touching my husband like that?  Hell no.   I’m selfish, Suzie, but if I don’t try to make Jack into someone he isn’t. . .Jack. . .Mama always told me when I was a little girl that if you love someone, to let them go.  If they come back to you, then they’re yours.  If they don’t ... and that’s how I see Jack.”

“You’re afraid of losing Jack,” Suzie said after a moment and Lacey nodded.  The other woman’s arm wrapped around her shoulders and she said softly, “You know he loves you, so much.  And I don’t think you’re selfish.  He flirts, but his warmest smiles and softest looks are solely for you and for Corey.  I don’t think you’re selfish at all.  Or maybe it’s a better kind of selfish than most kinds.  I think you understand Jack better than any of us do, even if you hold that information close to your heart.  I just wish you’d share it with sometimes.”

“Can’t.  Jack ... I can’t betray Jack like that.  So many people have betrayed him, Suzie, I won’t add my name to that list.  I won’t, I can’t,” Lacey replied softly.  Suzie simply tucked her head under her chin, wrapping the slightly smaller woman in a tight embrace.  Despite her worries for Jack (he collapsed from lack of touch!), Lacey reveled in moments like these, when it was just her and Suzie, and there was no glove to distract her friend.  She couldn’t help but feeling that damn glove was taking Suzie away from them, no matter how hard she tried to fight it. How much they all tried to fight it.  She whispered, “How pathetic do I sound?”

“Not pathetic at all.  I know you’ve said in the past that Jack has made sacrifices for you, and that’s part of marriage.  I wish I knew better what a good marriage entailed, but it seems to me that you both give.  Jack made the suggestion that Corey be baptized, even though he doesn’t believe in that, and you don’t hassle him about flirting and touching.  I don’t think you’re pathetic at all.  Insecure, maybe, but not pathetic,” Suzie replied, tightening her arms around Lacey.  The American girl hummed and Suzie added softly, “I just wish I could find someone.  Owen fulfills a need, but he doesn’t love me and I don’t love him.”

“I wish you could, too.  Maybe this new kid is just what you need,” Lacey offered and she could swear she could hear Suzie roll her eyes in exasperation.  Unable to withstand the temptation, she added, “Or maybe this kid isn’t your type at all ... I keep assuming because of Owen that you’re straight, but Tosh is awful pretty, too.”  She squeaked as Suzie reached down and swatted her butt.  Both girls giggled and Lacey continued after a moment, “You’ll find someone.  I used to hate when people said that to me, especially when I was fighting my feelings for Jack, but you will.  I never could have dreamed that someone like Jack would love me.  You’re going to find someone, and he ... or she ... is going to be amazing.”

“From your lips, as your mum always says,” Suzie murmured, “but don’t even suggest Agent Spastic to me, got it?”  Lacey giggled and Suzie continued, “I’m serious!  He freaks out poor Tosh sometimes, muttered something about hot criminals.”  Lacey went stone rigid in Suzie’s arms.  . . _he did WHAT_?  Suzie pulled back to look at her, asking anxiously, “What is it, what’s wrong?  I know Jack found Tosh under ... erm ... certain circumstances.  Are you afraid that Simmons knows about it?”

“That’s part of it.  Jack recently found out that he has a niece in this area, Mikaela.  She was mixed up in whatever Simmons was.  Suzie, do us both, and Simmons, a favor.  Let me tell Jack about this.  You know how protective he is, and things could get ugly.  Better yet, let me handle Tosh as well.  You haven’t done anything to him yet, have you?” Lacey asked, her mind racing.  She felt badly about lying to Suzie about Jack’s relationship with Mikaela, but that wasn’t something Jack was ready to share with the others.  Lacey wanted him to, her father wanted him to, but he wasn’t ready.  After what he told her of his past, she wasn’t about to force the issue.

“No, although I was tempted to stick that knife in him.  You know I don’t do warm and fuzzy, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let Agent Spastic torment and bully one of my teammates,” Suzie replied.  Lacey counted herself fortunate that Suzie mentioned this to her.  The last thing they needed Jack to find when he got home with Ianto Jones was one of his people going completely hatstand, as Suzie called it.  Funny.  Even after four years in the UK, Lacey still had a hard time keeping all of the slang right in her head.  No wonder Jack still used British slang after thirty-five years in the States.

“Don’t go using that knife, Suzie.  My dad assigned Simmons to us, and I really don’t want to be explaining about how Simmons died,” Lacey sighed.  Even though Simmons annoyed her, too.  She would let Jack deal with him, or better yet, she would drop a little bug in her uncle’s ear about his former roommate’s behavior.  It seemed, so far, as if the only people who could keep Simmons under control were her father and her uncle.  Jack hadn’t exerted control, yet, so she wasn’t sure if that would work.

“Spoilsport,” Suzie groused, and Lacey couldn’t tell if she was teasing or being honest.  There were times when Suzie, like Jack, said things half in fun and full in earnest.  But her arms remained around Lacey, fierce and strong ... kinda like Suzie herself.  Suzie murmured after a moment, “My God, look at the sunrise.  Beautiful.  Just beautiful.  And you were conceived in this area?  So beautiful.”  Lacey smiled and tightened her arms around Suzie’s waist.  Yes, this was a part of her now.  Or maybe it was a part of her all along, and she just now realized it.

She just wished she knew why she felt so uncomfortable in Hoover Dam, as if she had been here before ... and not just as an embryo.  More to the point, she hoped it wasn’t important.  _It isn’t_ , she told herself, _it isn’t important at all, so focus on what is important ... Jack and Corey, and helping to make sure Torchwood really was ready_.  Because it _was_ the twenty-first century.

 

TWTWTWTW

 

Jack consulted his ‘read’ email while his newest employee slept, looking utterly exhausted.  Lacey included pictures of the new and improved Torchwood base at Hoover Dam, including ‘silly pictures.’  Jack smiled.  Here was a picture of Owen pretending to scowl (he always did that when Corey was around ... like he was afraid to be seen as a big softy.  Corey wasn’t fooled, but that didn’t stop Owen from trying), and there was a picture of Suzie striking a pose beside the head of Frenzy, the Decepticon who nearly killed Simmons, Maggie Madsen, Jack’s father-in-law and Glen Whitman.  Jack shook his head at his second-in-command.

Here was another picture, this time of a very amused Lacey, fingers curled around their daughter’s ankles as Corey did a hand-stand.  Corey herself was beaming and trying to make it look like the only thing that stood between her and doing a face plant was her mother’s hands.  _Almost, but not quite, kiddo_.  But Jack gave her points for trying.  Very much her mother’s daughter in that respect.  And, she was her father’s daughter in other ways.

His eyes drifted back to his wife, and he thought again about the previous night, when Ianto Jones found him barely conscious in his hotel room, when he kissed his newest employee.  And whether she understood it or not, his young wife was still trying to prove herself to him.  Jack wished he knew what to do to reassure her, to ease her insecurities.  The trouble was, her insecurities were far different than most people.  And while he appreciated her efforts to keep him comfortable, he was also aware that if they both weren’t careful, things could backfire.  Jack loved his wife and daughter.  He would lose them both in time.  He didn’t want to hurry that along.  While Jack hid behind an outgoing mask, he wasn’t always good at saying what he wanted to say.  It wasn’t just telling people that he loved them, though that was a large part of it.

Ianto told him before they left this morning that Lacey was gentle with him, almost painfully gentle.  And for that, he was extremely grateful.  She didn’t lash out at Ianto, and others might have.  Further, he remembered that Lacey told him she didn’t want him suffering while she was pregnant and couldn’t have sex (and talk about a cosmic joke ... her mother couldn’t keep her hands off John as her pregnancies advanced, and Lacey’s sex drive was beyond non-existent once she reached five and a half months).  Further, Ianto was another man ... but Lacey wasn’t pregnant now.  _No_ , another part of his mind reminded him, _but you have been away from her for several weeks, under a significant amount of stress, and without any friends.  Not a good thing for a man from your time period, you know that_.

He would have to talk to his wife when he returned to the States, preferably face to face, although a telephone conversation would work just as well.  No, it wouldn’t.  Maybe a post-coital conversation, once he talked her into freeing him from the scarves.  Tying him to the bed and having her way with him was one of her favorite things, and Jack usually handed her the scarves when he did or said something that hurt her (or when he scared the ever-living hell out of her, as he did with his collapse the previous night).  While his wife was an incredibly patient woman, she did have her limits.  One day, early in their marriage, he made a reference to ‘quaint mores,’ something he did without thinking sometimes.  Or when he wanted to get someone’s attention.  And it worked ... just not always the way he wanted it to.

This particular time, evidently frustrated by her own boredom and inability to find a job, she lost her temper and rather than kicking him out of their bed, she slept elsewhere instead.  Jack was still miserable without her curled against him and knowing that he did something to hurt her.  Early the following morning, after restlessly pacing in their bedroom, he slipped into the sitting room, scooped her up and carried her back to bed.  Once she was awake and coherent, they had a proper conversation (‘ _you should have told me that it upset you, instead of pushing it aside_!’), and then Lacey asked if she could tie him up that night.  She hadn’t slept well, either.  And they both made up for that lost night.  Oooh, did they make up for it!  Jack smiled, remembering that particular night with great fondness.  In fact, it was second only to their wedding night in terms of passion, creativity, and ... .other things.

“Captain Harkness, I just received notification from the Secretary of Defense.  We’ll be landing at Creech Air Force Base, where Optimus Prime will be meeting us, along with Ironhide,” one of the airmen told him, approaching from the cockpit.  Jack nodded his thanks, and the young airmen added, “Ironhide asks you to remember that while he is a warrior, he can carry things as well.  Mrs. Lennox does it often enough.”  Jack laughed aloud at that remark.  Yes, he could imagine that Sarah Lennox found her husband’s new friend very useful in that regard.  But the airmen wasn’t finished.  He told Jack, “Captain Lennox also asks that you go over the new personnel who will be arriving at Hoover Dam.  The first set will start arriving in two weeks.”  Jack grimaced, but nodding in acknowledgment of the reminder.  He would have to thank him in a Sarah-approved way.  This meant no kissing, because Sarah didn’t share her man that way.

That was fine.  He turned his attention to the files in question, looking over the new names.  Rhys Williams, from Cardiff.  Intrigued, Jack opened his file.  Early thirties, a lorry driver for Harwood Haulage, girlfriend was a constable in Cardiff.  First encounter was with the Autobot called ‘Wheeljack.’  The immortal read the account of the encounter, a briefing written up by Will when the young man first joined NEST.  Interesting.

Very interesting.

 

 FIN


End file.
